


Anagnorisis

by lady_needless_litany



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Don't copy to another site, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Mostly Canon Compliant, Sarek's A+ Parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:34:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21886045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_needless_litany/pseuds/lady_needless_litany
Summary: When Amanda allowed Michael and Spock to leave the crypt, she thought that it was over. Of course, nothing is ever that simple.
Relationships: Amanda Grayson/Sarek
Comments: 4
Kudos: 42
Collections: Star Trek Secret Santa 2019





	Anagnorisis

**Author's Note:**

> Set around S02E07.

Michael and Spock's departure from Vulcan was, at first, a relief. It was as if a weight had been physically lifted from her shoulders. She had thought it was over: what more was there to say? Had Sarek not seen the light?

As they reentered the house, however, a sensation of heaviness began to growth in the pit of her stomach - this wasn't settled, not yet. Beside her, she could almost feel Sarek formulating his next move; still, she stayed half a step in front, determining their path.

Often, Amanda despised the emptiness of their home. The place was beautiful, graceful, a work of art, even - but there were vast stretches of vacant, hostile space. It certainly wasn't a comfort on a day already characterised by panic and turmoil, so she led Sarek to one of the interior rooms, which she had claimed as her own.

It was softer that the rest of the house, with one wall lined with old-fashioned books and the centre of the room dominated by a large, curved settee. The light was comfortingly dim, absorbed by a dark rug. It had been Amanda's haven for her entire residence on Vulcan; Sarek entered only rarely, though she had often shared it with Michael and Spock.

"Tea?" she offered, as they crossed the threshold. It felt oddly formal, as if she were inviting him into another house entirely—one that they didn’t share.

He shut the door behind them. "No, thank you."

They were stood more-or-less opposite each other, several metres apart, the bulk of the sofa between them. Before she'd even had the chance to sit down, he pressed on. "I am glad that Spock and Michael are en route to Section 31. I believe it is the best option for them both."

She folded her hands in front of her. "I agree."

"What I do not understand," he continued. "Is why you did not alert me of Spock's presence on Vulcan."

"Because there's something strange going on here. I don't understand it. And I don't trust Section 31."

"That does not explain—or excuse—such behaviour. Starfleet was the logical-"

Amanda threw her hands up. "Logic isn't enough. They're our _children_ , Sarek!"

"I know!"

His outburst was sudden, abrupt, utterly out-of-character. A stupefied silence followed, both of them shocked.

"I apologise," he said eventually. "That was unhelpful. I simply meant to say that I, too, worry about Michael and Spock."

"You sure as hell don't show it," Amanda muttered, mutinous.

Sarek ignored the comment. "You lied to me. I was searching for Spock, as I had informed you. You hid him from me and you lied to me."

"It was for the best."

His stare was intense, like he expected her next words to yield all the secrets of the universe. "Elaborate."

She huffed. "Michael and Spock are in danger. They're being threatened by something that no-one understands. And _I don't trust Section 31._ All I did was what any mother would do."

"Spock is, in the eyes of the Federation, a criminal. One who requires immediate psychiatric support," he responded. "Moreover, it is our responsibility to uphold the laws and the spirit of the Federation."

"It's also our responsibility to look after our children."

"They are no longer children. They are responsible for their own actions."

"That's what I mean! This is our fault, in so many ways," Her eyes, practiced at reading Sarek's nuanced mannerisms, detected something that was almost a flinch. She lowered her voice. "Let's not lie to ourselves. When they were younger, we should've done better."

"Perhaps," he conceded, dipping his head.

"No," she snapped, anger flaring again. "There's no 'perhaps'. We should've done better."

She half-turned away, facing the wall. It was, she thought, the most human she had felt or acted in years. The realisation was met with a combination of humiliation and vindictiveness.

Behind her, Sarek attempted to speak. "Amanda, I-"

It wasn't often that he was lost for words, but those ones dissolved into the air, useless.

He grimaced and tried again. " _I_ should have done more. As a parent… I know that I failed our children in many ways." He chose his next words carefully. "They are both, as you have always been fond of saying, children of two worlds. In that regard, I neglected my duty."

"They're our kids. We raised them together."

"Perhaps. You were more adept than I at reading them and knowing them. At loving them."

"They're still - I don't know. We're still in this mess."

"Yes, but you cannot blame yourself. I was responsible for the events that transpired and brought us to this: denying Michael the chance to enter the Vulcan Expeditionary Group, inadvertently pushing Spock into joining Starfleet-"

Amanda cut in. "We're a family. That's not how it works."

"Collective responsibility."

She met his gaze. "Exactly."

There was an awkward pause, neither of them sure how to proceed.

Sarek moved first. "Much of this is beyond our control," he hedged, seating himself on the settee. She mirrored him, an arm's length between them. "The Red Angel, whatever it may be, is not our creation, no matter its relation to Michael and Spock."

She didn't reply. There were no words, in her mind, that could possibly form an appropriate response.

Visibly, Sarek took a deep breath, inching closer to her. Then he reached over, enclosing one of her hands in his; not in the controlled, ritualistic way that Vulcans couples pressed their fingertips together, but in an emotional, human way. Her mouth almost dropped open in shock - it was the first time he'd done anything like that, ever.

"I apologise."

At those two words, the remnants of her ire melted. "For what?"

"You were correct," he said. "To do what you have done."

She blinked, perplexed. "You've changed your tune."

"You have always put our children first—I cannot fault you for that. You have supported them, even when I did not. So, when you make a decision as radical as that, I trust that it is in their best interests," he explained. "I trust your judgement."

Her smile contained a touch of bitterness. "Even though I'm human?"

He tipped his head, taking her point. " _Because_ you are human."

"I'm sorry, too," she offered. "Not for hiding Spock. But I'm sorry for lying to you."

"I understand."

"It's like they're kids again," she said hopelessly. She directed her next words to her feet. "They're lost and hurting and I feel like I can't do anything."

"We have done what we can," he replied, uncharacteristically gentle. "We must trust them now."

Unspeaking, she nodded. She leaned forward, pressing her forehead against his.

"Ashau nash-veh tu," he murmured.

Eyes closed, she smiled. "Love you too."

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone knows a better translation, please let me know - my Vulcan is nonexistent, so I did my best with Google search.


End file.
